


Dark Enforcer

by LoveAndWar34 (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Enforcer, EU, Fluff, Luke Skywalker/Han Solo - Freeform, M/M, Smut (Later), skysolo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 17:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10598541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LoveAndWar34
Summary: Hello, guys! Welcome to my first story on AO3! I really hope you guys enjoy this story. I promise, I will try to upload as much as I possibly can. Tell me what you think in the comments! (I know, I spelled some things wrong xD)





	1. Chapter One

        Only decades ago, there were the Clone Wars. They were the basis of the Empire’s rule over much of the galaxy, until the Rebellion victory on the forest moon of Endor two years prior. By destroying the second Death Star and taking the lives of the Emperor and his apprentice, Darth Vader, the Force-damned Rebellion took what was supposed to be the Empire’s. That was why the Death Stars were built in the first place, to keep the Rebels at bay and the galaxy in order.  
        _Look at how that turned out,_ Genevieve says to herself as she maneuvers through the aftermath of Endor. The trees and grass ares still blackened in some places, while the soil is torn apart from laser fire in others. She can almost smell the smoke and the distinct scent of death; see the burning glow of the ries that illuminated the forest only a couple years ago. The Rebellion fought long and hard to reach the shield generator that guarded the battle station, and the Imperials fought equally as hard, but in the end, their efforts were futile. The Rebellion staggered into this war, and walked out holding the galaxy in their hands.  
        _But little do they know, the Empire still has a chance at victory_.  
        Gene’s heard the stories many times, about a crystal, or a fragment of one, falling to the surface of Endor after the destruction of the Death Star. Some tellers claim it was a Kyber crystal, like the ones they used in the first batle station; others claim it’s as old as the pre-Clone Wars era. Throughout all the clubs and cantinas she’s traversed through, each story came to the same conclusion: It’s on Endor.  
Genevieve wonders if she was foolish to follow a few silly stories to a planet as dead as this one. This thought has crossed her mind several times before; and each time she counters it with another one; the Empire would reward her greatly, and it’s this repeated phrase that keeps her moving forward.  
        Besides, Gene tells herself, Revia lead you here.  
        The sky above her has begun to darken, much to Gene’s distaste. She stops, one foot on a fallen log. She grips the straps of her jump pack in her fists, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Revia gave her the coordinates to the Rebel outpost stationed on Endor, where the crystal was rumored to be. After almost a day of searching, she hasn’t found anything remotely msyterious.  
        She sighs. “Face it Gene. It’s not here. You should just go back.” Genevieve remains for a few minutes before giving in, and turning back, beginning the walk back to her ship. While she walks, she tries to reason with herself.  
        “Maybe Revia played you…”  
        “...Maybe somebody found it first…”  
        “...You just aren’t looking hard enough…”  
        “..Maybe it doesn’t even exist…”  
        “...Maybe it’s not on Endor…”  
        All those reasons seem unlikely. Surely, she, of all people, would be the one to know if someone found something as big as this. To try and come to a conclusion, Gene recites the meeting in a dingy cantina a few weeks ago that brought her here.

        _The cantina is dark and filled with smoke, a strange style of music filling the small enclosure. The smell of strong liquor surrounds her, clashing harshly with the loud talking and sounds of gambling. Gene’s head pounds and she rests a hand on the blaster at her side. It’s a comforting thing; somehow, knowing that her blaster is there provides a sense of protection._  
_She pushes her way through the throng to the back of the bar, where a man, clad in almost all black, is seated at one of the booths. He swirls a cup of dark amber liquid, most likely Corellian whiskey, keeping his lowered as she approaches. Gene takes a seat across from him and takes a small silver disk from her jacket pocket, sliding it across the table. The man doesn’t take it; instead, he looks up at Gene through his thick lashes._  
_“Nice to see you, Genevieve,” the man says in a deep voice, with a faint Outer Rim accent. He eventually takes the disk, extending his arm in greeting. Genevieve returns it._  
_“And you, Revia.” The man, revia, raises his head to reveal someone much younger than his voice made him sem. He has a clean complexion, save for a few andlged scars here and there. HIs eyes are grey, like the clouds of a midnight storm, and his dark hair is pulled back in a knot, small strands framing his face. He leans forward and crosses his arms over the table._  
_Revia smiles wolfishly. “Why are you here? Not your brother, is it?”_  
_Genevieve winces at the mention of her brother. “Can’t two people just have a friendly conversation?”_  
_Revia pauses and leans back to take note of his surroundings, and readjust the blaster at his side. He then leans forward again. “Why are you here?”_  
_“Being tracked, aren’t you?” Gene teases, running a finger lightly along his arm. “What’s the bounty this time?”_  
_Revia swats her hand away. “Nothing of importance to you,” he flicks his gaze around the room, trying to avoid eye contact with the auburn-haired bounty hunter across from him. “Get on with it.”_  
_“Have you heard anything about….anything?”_  
_“That’s pretty broad, ginger. What type of stories are we talking about?”_  
_“Lately, I’ve heard rumors of an artifact; and artifact that has the lethality to rival the Death Star. Some of my sources claim that you know where it is. I want it’s location.”_  
_Revia laughs softly. “That was months ago. Besides, with all the stories going around, that thing won’t be there. Some smuggler was bound to pick it up. But if you really want to hear about it,” Revia hastily adds after seeing the glare Gene aimed at him. He sighs. “After the final run on the Death Star, when it exploded, a crystal from the core of the station fell to Endor. It didn’t cause any damage, but the soldiers I’ve spoken to said it glowed this tremendous red light before disappearing._  
_“So it never existed in the first place?”_  
_“I’m not saying that. It’s just what I’ve heard.” Revia sips the dark liquor, eyeing Gene._  
_“My biggest question is, how positive are you about this thing landing on Endor?”_  
_Revia worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “Like I said, it’s just what I’ve heard. Nobody’s crazy enough to go back to Endor after the war. Well, besides those desperate for money. But, luckily for you, now that the Republic’s taken over, that’s somewhat rare. Which,” he takes another sip. “Could be used to your advantage,” he takes a deep breath. “Why do you want this?”_  
_“If it’s as dangerous as the stories say, it could strike a real blow to the Republic. This crystal could have been used in the Death Star, we might use it again, this time with more devastating results.”_  
_Revia thinks her statement over. “You have a point,” he finally responds. “But you’re going alone.” He downs the rest of the drink and stands up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have other...important matters to attend to.”_  
_Gene watches him leave. Normally, she would have follows him and tried to drag some answers out of him. But Revia seems...different. He’s been hunted several times before, and each time he walked into it with his head held high; he would seek out the hunter and end them with an efficiancy to rival a Nexu. Now, he seems to be cowering._  
_What have you done, Revia?_

That night, not expecting to make it to her ship by night fall, Genevieve sits against a tree, fingering the blaster in her hand. She’s let her hair down from it’s normal braids, letting it fall past her shoulders to rest at the center of her back. She inherited her long hair, as well as a curvy shape and brown eyes from her mother, while her father gave her his rugged features and personality. She hates how she looks, which is one of the reasons she became a bounty hunter, that way she had something to focus on besides herself. She sighs and drops the blaster in her lap.  
        “What am I doing here?” She asks herself aloud. “This it just crazy. I’m chasing after something that probably doesn’t even exist, or on the other side of the galaxy, and I’m still here on this green wasteland.” She grabs a nearby rock and chucks it as hard as she can. Unfortunately, unlike in the holovids, the rock doesn’t hit anything that could lead her to her quarry.  
        She replaces her blaster in it's holster, and curls up against the rough bark of the tree, quickly falling asleep.

        _Rain falls from the starlit sky, flashes of lightning illuminating the mountainous landscape surrounding her. This place seems fairly empty, save for the few sounds of animals from the trees, and the ferocious downpour outside. Gene leans against the window of her home, gazing out beyond the hills and into the angry sky. She longed to escape from the confines of the cramped bunker, even if the planet would become a swamp after this storm._  
_“Gene,” a soft voice says from behind her, while gentle hands rest on her shoulders. “It’s time for bed, dear.” Little Genevieve looks back at her mother, silently pleading for just a few more minutes. Her mother shakes her head. Gene, in an act of defiance, stares back outside._  
_“Come on, Gene,” another voice calls, presumably her father. “You’re going to need your strength if you want to grow any more.” Gene ignores this bit of information, and keeps her eyes fixed on the sky, as if waiting for something to drop out of it. Her father takes a step forward, but is stopped by her mother’s outstretched hand._  
_“It’s no use. She gave up listening to us a long time ago. She’s just like her brother.” Before Gene can snap back, the bunker shakes, faintly at first, but soon growing more intense. The little girl is frightened, and runs to her father, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist._  
_“It’s okay, little one. Everything is going to be alright.” From the mist, shown briefly through flashes of lightning, a ship appears, landing directly in front of their bunker._  
_“Mommy, who’s that?” Gene’s voice shakes, and she clutches her father even tighter. Her mother shakes her head, there’s no use in lying to a small child._  
_“I don’t know, honey. But I do know, that everything is going to be alright.”_  
_The ship lands, and almost as soon as it does, a figure emerges, clad in a black cloak. Lightning flashes once again, and Gene can see their face clearly. It’s the face of…_

        Gene jerks awake, sweat covering her body. She takes deep breaths, and uses an old trick to calm her mind, which does nothing to remove the remains of her dream. This has been a recurring thing for a long while, yet every time she has the dream, she’s terrified, cold, and reminded that she’s alone. She takes a few more calming breaths before standing up, stretching her arms above her head. She is fully awake now, and desperate to get back to her ship. She yawns one last time, shouldering her pack and making her way home.  
        In the light, it’s much easier to spot the blaster marks on the trees, which she made as a pathway back to her YT-2400, the Bastion. She quickens her pace and pulls her jacket a bit closer around her in an attempt to escape the dawn chill. Thankfully, in addition to the blaster marks , she has the Bastion’s homing beacon. Reassuringly, she doesn’t have much longer to go.  
        “So, if the object isn’t on Endor, then where could it be?” There are several Republic ruled worlds, and a large majority of them are perfect candidates for keeping a deadly object. Yavin IV, Hoth, Coruscant, Endor’s mother planet, Corellia…  
Corellia, Gene’s home world and the biggest ship manufacturer for the Republic. Also containing one of the galaxy’s largest data files, it might have hints, or at least information about what she’s looking for. Coruscant might yield better results. Gene doesn’t want to think about her home world, but that doesn’t stop her mind from wandering.  
        When she was younger, and her parents were still alive and her brother didn’t run away, she lived in a small bunker, of a sort. It housed the four of them comfortably enough, and it was isolated from the rest of the population, making it difficult for the two children to attend any schools. Instead, their mother and father taught them. For the first fifteen years of her life, everything seemed perfect.  
        The next year, when her and her brother came of age, they were enlisted in the Imperial Academy. Gene was happy, and hoped that her dreams of becoming a pilot were finally going to come true. Her brother’s feelings were entirely different. Gene will never forget the fight him and father had. She was in her room with a book, the old ones with paper and ink, but she couldn’t concentrate. In the next room, she can hear her and her father talking, not yet fighting. No matter what anyone says or does, her brother won’t go to the academy.  
        Gene remembers that fight the most;all the yelling and violence. That was the night her brother left. Mother was heartbroken. Father could care less. Genevieve missed her brother dearly, but those feelings quickly faded when her parents set out to find their son and didn’t return. She hopes he doesn’t remember her.  
        Her arrival at the Bastion pulls her from her reverie. She checks over the exterior of the ship, watching for any sign of damage; not that she really expected the native fuzzballs to do any real damage. She glances around her before entering the freighter. As soon as she clears the ramp, there is a large hold, where she keeps rations, energy packs, spare blasters and whatever else she may need. Below decks his another storage hold, which she houses shipments and/or targets, it the bounty calls for it. Leading away from the main hold is a corridor to her sleeping quarters, escape pods and cockpit.  
        Gene loves it here. It’s the one place she can truly call home. Revia helped her remove unneccesary parts and install a quad-laser canon, an x.5 hyperdrive module and a ramming engine. Because of the modifications, the freighter doesn’t carry as much as Gene would like, but if she’s attacked she can escape faster than, almost, anything.  
        “This ship is almost as fast as that 1300,” Revia had said after the final modification was put in place. “With a few speed additions and weight reductions, it just might pass it.”  
        There was no need for Revia to explain which 1300 he was talking about. She felt a sharp pang of anger and jealousy grip her heart, but she pushed it aside and smiled proudly. Since then, she hasn’t put on any speed modifications; it gets the job done, and she likes it the way it is. Even more so, because this was her father’s ship.  
        This ship could be yours one day, princess, her father would say, holding Gene on his shoulders. You’ll be the best pilot in the galaxy. That’s one of the good memories she has of her father. She tries to relive those moments in her sleepless nights, and with each passion second, there’s a spark of hope that her mother and father are alive, and one day they’ll find her. But with all good things, they must end, and she tells herself that they’re dead. Revia was her escape from that.  
The two met during a bounty and easily went from threatening to close friends. They became partners and worked together on almost every hunt and shipment, soon becoming their own family. When he was a young boy, Revia had lost everything, his parents, his home, his planet, everything to the Senate. Nobody would take him in, so he took up theft and later smuggling and bounties. Revia and Gene helped each other and never left one another in a tight spot. Well, sometimes they left each other. She should probably contact him.  
        Gene drops her jump pack on a box nearby and makes her way to her quarters, pulling her comm link from her belt simultaneously. She falls back on her bunk and keys in Revia’s comm address, which he answers a few moments later. He looks tired, and his hair is dirty, as if he’s been on the run for a while.  
        “What do you want, Gen?” Recia asks, seemingly irritated. She smiles.  
        “Are you on the run again? What did you get yourself into?”  
        “I’m not running. I just haven’t had the chance to settle down. So, what’s up?”  
        “Just wanted to check in, make sure my little bounty hunter is safe.” Genevieve loves teasing Revia like that. Everytime, without fail, a scowl crosses his face, and is eyes seem to blaze orange. Except this time. Instead, his abnormally stress-worn features soften and a smile tugs at his lips. Gene smiles, too; a rare, toothy smile, that’t full of light.  
        “Alright, little Gene,” Revia says, his voice hardening. “Why are you really here?”  
        She’s silent for a few moments, wracking her brain for the best way to word her request. Eventually, she decides on, “What do you know about the first Death Star?”  
        “That’s...a different question. Why?”  
        “The stories say it could have been a Kyber crystal, from the core of the Death Stars, right? I was wondering if you knew anything about them.”  
        Revia taps his fingers on something unseen to Gene. He has his bottom lip between his teeth, and his eyes dart back and forth. “I don’t know any more than an average citizen. You could try the archives on Corellia, I can guarantee they might have something about what you’re looking for.”  
        Of course. It has to be Corellia. “Why not Coruscant? Their archives are bigger.”  
        “Yeah, but Coruscant doesn’t want anything to do with the Empire. Corellia wants to understand the technology, and use it against them. They’re bound to have something about the Death Stars,” Revia falls silent, then a look of realization flashes across his face. “Or, if Corellia doesn’t have what you’re looking for, there is another place you could search.”  
        Gene waits a few moments for Revia to complete his explanation. “Well, go on.”  
        You could consider searching for the Death Star plans. If you can find the first blueprint, you have access to the other. Whatever you’re looking for has to be there.”  
        Gene nods absently, letting the idea flow through her mind and analyzing each part. “The first Death Star was under construction...how many years ago?”  
        Revia scoffs. “People have lost count. The Rebellion managed to obtain the plans almost ten years ago, that much I know. I don’t have any idea who, or what is in possession of them now, that much is up to you.”  
        “Wow, that was a lot of help.” Revia smiles cockily. “Do you have any idea where I should start looking?”  
        The holo display flickers as Genevieve crosses her legs beneath her. “The biggest Rebellion controlled world was Coruscant…”  
        “What about Alderaan? The plans weren’t there, were they?”  
        “That was destroyed in a test fire. The plans wouldn’t have been there when it went down. Check Corellia’s archives and look for anything that might have information about the Rebellion during the war. I need to go, but keep in touch with me. I’ll keep my ears open for anything useful.”  
        “Be careful, Revia,” Genevieve surprises herself at the amount of sentiment in her voice.  
        “You, too. If anything goes wrong, you’ll know where to find me.” Revia smiles before the holo cuts out, leaving Gene in a dim darkness. She takes a deep breath before laying back on the mattress. She rests her hands on her stomach, gazing up at the ceiling.  
        “Send the ship into lockdown.” A faint buzzing fills the room as the hatches close and the ship shuts down, like a dragon taking it’s final breath. Gene’s last thoughts before falling asleep are those of fear; for Revia, and what she’ll find on Corellia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! Welcome to my first story on AO3! I really hope you guys enjoy this story. I promise, I will try to upload as much as I possibly can. Tell me what you think in the comments! (I know, I spelled some things wrong xD)


	2. Chapter 2

According to many travelers, hyperspace is the most boring part of a journey. Luke Skywalker definitely wasn’t objecting to that. It’s been two days, and he still wasn’t halfway to Tatooine. The Jedi is curled up in the _Millennium Falon’s_ pilot’s chair, biting his fingernails anxiously. It’s a bad habit, really. Especially for a trained Jedi _._ He knew the trip to Tatooine would take a while, but he just wanted to get home and spend a few months from the eyes of the Republic. Him, Han and Chewbacca could stay in Ben’s old homestead for a while and enjoy each other’s company. Or get annoyed of each other and fight. Leia would have gone, but she had other business with the Senate that required her attention. Plus, she needed a break from Han.

If Luke’s being honest, he’s glad to be away from her. Though it’s been two years since the Battle of Endor, and since his father was killed, he’s been distant and isolated. It scared her to see her brother like this and it’s because of that fear that she never left him alone on the matter.

“Take advantage of the attention,” Han had said one night as they lay in Luke’s bunk. “I sure as hell aren’t giving you enough.”

Luke smiled shyly.  “You’ve given me more than I deserve.” That’s often how their nights went; han feeling worthless and Luke being there to reassure him. They would then fall asleep beside each other. Luke savored waking up next to Han; his hair mussed, lips slightly parted, and on leg thrown over Luke’s waist. He always wound up in weird positions.

Luke smiled fondly at the memory, but it doesn’t distract him for long. He sighs and starts biting his lip rather than his nails. He wants to get home. He pushes himself from the chair and exites the cockpit for the main hold. Han wanted him to get some sleep, as he hadn’t gotten much in the past weeks, but it wasn’t entirely easy when you’re impatient.

“Hey, kid,” Han calls brightly when Luke enters the hold. He sets a dark colored bottle on the table before him and stands to greet the Jedi. “You look terrible.” The Corellian studies the blond, concern in his hazel eyes.

“I can imagine. I know what you’re going to say,” Luke says when Han starts to speak. “It’s hard for me to fall asleep right now.”

“You know, I hate it when you read my mind,” Han says, smiling playfully.

“I don’t think that’s how it…”

“What am I thinking about?” Han’s voice is dangerously quiet.

Luke’s smile broadens. “You’re thinking...something I don’t want to repeat.”

Han laughs. Seeing him happy makes Luke’s heart soar and feel lighter than anything. It’s been so long since he’s seen him like this; it’s almost like he’s back to his old self, the careless smuggler Luke met in that Mos Eisley cantina eight years ago.

“Actually, I was thinking of how..”

“Okay, okay,” Luke says, placing his hand on Han’s chest. “I’m going to stop you there.”

Luke sits on the bench where Han was earlier, resting his legs on the table and crossing his arms.

“I think you’ve spent too much with me, kid,” Han pushes Luke’s legs off the table, pivoting his slim body to side. He leans over the bench, looking up at Han. He just chuckles and kisses his nose gently. Before he can pull away, Luke places his hand on the back of his head and pulls him to his lips. The kiss is gentle and slow, yet there si a desire that is clear as day to the Jedi.

He rolls over to get a better angle and relieve the pressure on his neck. Han moans softly and pushes Luke back on the bench, straddling his hips. Luke takes the brunet’s bottom lip between his teeth and nips it gently, earning a rather arousing moan from the man above him. These are the times Luke feels like a teenager, rather than close to thirty. He can forget the responsibilites of his knighthood, and be the naive farmboy Han loves. Luke knew he was in love when he first laid eyes on the ruged captain, but with all the conflicting hormone of his teenage years, it was hard to come to grips with what he was feeling. Luke knows, of course, that it is forbidden for Jedi to form attachments, but something about Han has made Luke break that rule for four years.

The Corellian kisses Luke’s neck, finding his pulse and nipping it gently. Luke sighs sharply before pushing him away.

“Alright, alright. I know where this is going,” Luke voices, sitting up. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” Han kisses him again, more fiercely than before.

Luke pulls away. “Wasn’t it you who said I should get some sleep?”

“Yes, but you said it was hard for you to fall asleep.” Han leans in, but Luk stops him.

“I’m just not ready.” The Corellian sighs in defeat.

“I understand. It’s just...it’s been four years and I want to get to know... _you_.” Luke knows what Han wants, and he gave up long ago denying himself that he wanted it too. The only problem; his insecurities. He’s inexperienced, clumsy and feels he won’t be able to please Han like he should. He’s scared. That’s the only word for it. He’s scared of the scars that line his torso, scared that he’ll hurt Han, or vice versa. _Someday, baby...I promise._

“How much longer are we going to be in hyperspace?” Luke questions, sitting up and crossing his legs beneath him.

“Only a couple more days,” Han responds. “Why do you want to go back to that dust bowl? I just got away from there, you know.”

“That was two years ago, Han. Besides, I have some unfinished business, something I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Hey, I’m all about unfinished business. What’s going on?”

“You know about my aunt and uncle, right? OR  was that a time when you weren’t listening to me?”

“Hey, don’t get cocky, kid,” Han pretends to look hurt.

“Okay. Well, with everything that’s happened in the past eight years, I didn’t have a chance to give them a proper funeral,” Han looks at him, clearly surprised. “Why is that so surprising?”

“I don’t know. I thought you hated them, I guess.”

“Well, I can’t deny I did hate them when I was younger, but I blame that on my lack of freedom. I was a teenager, what do you expect?” Luke doesn’t mention Biggs or the Academy.

“I can respect that,” Han crosses his legs and turns to face Luke. “Why’d you bring me with you?”

“I want someone there with me. Besides, we could both take a few months by ourselves.” It’s been four years, yet Han and Luke haven’t gone public. They know Leia suspects something, which is why the stolen kisses in vacant hallways or subtle touches during meetings mean so much to the both of them. And, of course, when they’re behind closed doors, it’s a different story. Han will hold Luke close, kissing his hair, running his hand along his sides and stomach. The republic hasn’t picked up on anything yet, but you can never be too careful.

“That’s true,” Han says. “It’ll be nice to be alone, just the two of us.”

“You know it.” Luke curls up against Han, resting his head on his shoulder. Han wraps his arms the Jedi’s slim shoulders. “I’ve missed this.” Something about cuddling with Han on the _Falcon_ fills Luke with an indescribable happiness. Everytime Han and Luke got this close, Leia would interrupt them with something they both deemed unimportant.

“Me too, kid,” Han rests his chin on the blond’s head, closing his eyes, and sighing against the blond locks. “Me too.” Those are the last words Luke hears befre falling into a deep sleep.

 

A vibration tears through the _Falcon,_ jerking Luke awake. He’s disoriented, and doesn’t know where he is for a second. Then, it hits him. _Han must have brought me here._ He smiles, but the feeling is quickly replaced by nausea at the ship’s sudden movements. He groans and throws his legs over the side of the mattress, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He hangs his head and closes his eyes in an attempt to cease the sudden dizziness that claimed him, only to open them a second later at the sound of the door opening.

“Han?” Luke looks up, but instead is greeted with the fury mass of Chewbacca, Han’    second-in-command. “Is everything alright?” Chewie responds with a low whine, which Luke interprets as, “no, things are not good.” Luke realizes that Han had also stripped him of his tunic. It takes him a moment to spot it laying on the back of a chair. He pulls it on hastily and makes for the door, only to be stopped by the Wookie. Chewie growls ,but Luke dodged past him and heads for the cockpit.

“What’s happening, Han?” Luke leans over the back of the pilot’s chair, where Han is frantically pressing buttons and flipping levers.

“Somethin’s wrong with the engines,” he says, almost reluctantly, as if he were afraid of what Luke would say.

“Are you sure we weren’t pulled out of hyperspace? There could be an Imperial ship out here, waiting to capture a couple of Rebels.”

“That’s not what it is, kid. The nav-computer doesn’t give me any readings of enemy ships. This would be a good time to have Goldenrod on board.” Luke brushes off the last comment. He trusts Han, but just to be sure, he checks the nav-computer in the main hold. Sure enough, the nav-computer doesn’t show any ship readings at all. What it does show is a planet, controlled by neither the Republic nor the Empire.

“Han,” Luke calls over his shoulder. “You should come check this out.”

“Just a second, kid! Kind of busy!”

“There’s a planet, or a moon, below us. The computer says it’s neutral.”

Silence. Then, “what?”

“Yeah, maybe they could help us.”

“It wouldn’t be a pretty landing.” Han snaps from the cockpit. Before Luke can respond, the _Falcon_ shudders again, throwing Luke off balance. He rights himself, and returns to the computer. The taps the green dot on scren , which should bring up some basic information about the world. The strange thing is, there seems to be nothing about it. Luke furrows his brow and once again calls for Han. He hears him snap something to Chewie, then the sound of footsteps, stopping behind Luke.

“What’s going on, kid?”

“Well, if you can’t already tell,” Luke brings the map back to show the world, in real-time, beneath them. The surface seems relatively calm, with a few cloud clusters scattered here and there. “This is an uncontrolled world, and the life readings don’t bring back anything. You could land here and do some repairs.”

Han looks reluctant. “I don’t know, kid. If it’s an uncontrolled world, it’s probably that way for a reason. There could be some life forms down there that we aren’t able to pick up. There could be something there that we don’t want to mess with, and we wouldn’t be able to defend ourselves.”

“Isn’t that why I have you, so you could protect me?” Luke asks sweetly, turning to face Han.

“I thought you were supposed to be the Jedi,” Han teases. Luke punches him lightly in the chest.

“Come on,” he pleads. “This could be our only course of action. Plus, I could use another adventure.”

“Isn’t defeating the Empire enough for you?” Han quips. He chews his cheek thoughtfully, gazing over Luke’s shoulder. The blond doesn’t take his eyes off of him until he answers. “Alright. We’ll try it out. But if anything happens to you or my ship, it’s your fault.”

“You can’t blame me if I’m dead,” Luke responds sarcastically.

Han pokes his chest, a serious expression on his face. “Don’t say that. You won’t die.”

Luke takes his hand and kisses it gently. “Just stating the facts.” Han tries not to smile, but fails, before turning away and returning to the cockpit. Luke stares after him, admiring his cocky movements and the way the blaster at his hip sways with his gait. The Jedi leans against a nearby wall, gazing fondly at...something. That was one of the first things Luke noticed about Han; the way he walked, and the way he held himself. He always looked confident, even if he knew they were in trouble. He put on a brave face for the sake of him and Leia.

_Leia…_

Luke’s thoughts flash to his sister. She was heartbroken when she learned that Luke was leaving. Even more so when she learned that Luke was going with him. The two had hit a rough patch in their friendship, which happened when Leia expressed her feelings towards Han. They went their separate ways; Han with Luke, Leia back to Coruscant.

Luke hates it when they fight. Somehow, he always gets caught in the middle of it, leaving him with the heavy burden of resolving their issues. It’s one of Han’s greatest faults; his quick temper and itchy trigger finger. He will almost always find an excuse to pull a blaster on someone. Then, he met Luke, and all that changed. Well, it took a while. Now, he could care less about himself; as long as his friend and lover were safe.

Luke smiles and follows the corridor to the cockpit. Chewie is seated beside Han, carrying out the pilot’s commands. Yet another vibration rips through the _Falcon_ as they enter the world’s atmosphere, making Luke grip the back of Han’s seat to avoid falling.

“I hope you’re right about this place, kid,” Han says anxiously. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke grips the lightsaber at his hip. “If anything does wrong, you get back here and let me take care of it.” Han doesn’t answer and Luke begins to question his decision to force Han down here. His instincts have been wrong before, and it nearly cost Han his life. He can’t afford to do that again.

“Hold on, Luke. This is going to be a rough landing.” Han grits and bares his teeth as he maneuvers the _Falcon_ through a cluster of, what Luke can only assume is, debris. Luke tightens his grip on Han’s chair and casts his mind past the hull of the ship, searching for a hint of life they may have missed.

What he sees renders him nearly breathless. Beneath the ship is an expanse of green, mountainous landscapes and water falls descending gently to the crystal lakes below. If Luke closes his eyes, he can hear the singing of birds, feel the mist of the waterfalls on his skin and the breeze in his hair. This is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Growing up on a desolate sand planet, he could only dream of places like this. Not the best circumstances, but he’s still there.

“You alright, kid?” Han’s voice wakes Luke from his stupor.

He nods absently, but in realizing he can’t see him, says, “I’m alright. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Initiate landing sequence, Chewie. Find us a good place to set down.” Chewie growls in response. Han stands up and turns to Luke. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Han. Stop worrying,” Luke snaps, harsher than he meant. “I’m just...scared.”

“Why? There’s nothing to be scared about.”

“What if I’m wrong about this? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Chewie growls from the cockpit and Han smiles.

“You’re staying here, bud, incase we need a quick escape.” The Wookie whines in response. “We’ll be alright. I’ll take the homing beacon. Now, find a place to land, you’re burnin’ the engines!” Chewbacca growls. Han rolls his eyes and murmurs something under his breath. “Who cares if you destroy a few trees?”

“Just land, Chewie,” Luke voices, feeling extremely tired.

Han, hearing Luke’s sudden fatigue, turns to him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just...feel really tired. Like the weeks of no sleep are finally catching up to me.” Luke furrows his brow.

“Well, you might want to sit down for landing.” Han wraps his arm around his lover’s slim shoulders and leads him to the cockpit.

“Try to land softly, okay?” Chewbacca frustratedly bellows something. While Luke jumps, Han doesn’t even flinch. “Hang in there, Luke,” The Corellian takes his rightful seat, and flips a few switches that activate the repulsorlifts. The _Falcon_ groans feebly as Chewie brings the ship in for a landing. Han leans forward to get a better view of the landscape around them. “Alright. Stay here, Chewie. You coming, Luke?”

Luke sighs and pushes himself from the chair. “Might as well.”

“You can stay back. I won’t force you to do come along. No offense, kid, but you look awful.”

“Thanks, but if you get into danger, someone has to protect you,” to make his point, Luke rests his hand on the lightsaber at his hip. Han laughs before caressing his lover’s face and kissing his forehead.

“Well, let’s go. Don’t even think about following us, Chewie. Start looking for problems with the ship,” Han dashes off, Luke following shortly.

“There doesn’t seem to be much here,” Luke points out. Han presses his lips in a thin line and grips his blaster tightly, a reassuring action, Luke found. “I’m going to start looking for anything. I go one way, you go the other?”

“No. I don’t want to lose you. We’re sticking together.”  
“I can take care of myself, Han.”

“I know you can, kid,” Han gazes down at the stubborn Jedi, who fiercely returns his show of defiance. “I just...don’t think right now is a good time to let you wander off on your own.”  
“Luke sighs and rolls his eyes before saying, “Fine. We search the area together.”

“Or, you lay down while Chewie and I go to work on the _Falcon._ Everything seems relatively fine for now.”

“Han…”

“There’s no point in arguing with me, kid. You’re exhausted, and you know it. Go rest, and stop worrying. We’ll be out of here in a few hours.”

Luke keeps his glare fixed on the Corellian’s. He does like the sound of sleeping, but the idea is quickly drowned out by the rememberance of the same dream that’s been plaguing his slumber ever since the Battle of Endor. The only times he’s been able to sleep were back on Coruscant, where he could easily relax his mind before falling into much needed sleep. However, visits on Coruscant are rare, as he’s taken to accompanying Han on whatever adventure he’s managed to get himself into; and there’s something about the _Falcon_ that makes him uneasy, restless. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to figure out what it is. Han has tried, and failed, to figure out what it is, but Luke, being as stubborn as he is, wont tell Han anything. This has lead to several nasty fights.

Finally, Luke dips his head in submission, which makes Han smile. “If anything goes wrong, please don’t be stupid.”

“Since when am I stupid when it comes to trouble?” Han asks, feigning hurt.

“Since you met me.” Before Han can say anything, Luke darts away. The Corellian gazes after his retreating form, grinning like a lovesick teenager.


	3. IMPORTANT!!!!!

Hey, my people. I understand it has been a long time since I have last updated, but I have a very good excuse, I swear. 

I am currently working on THREE other stories, which I will post on my alternate account, E_S71. If you would like to go check them out, they are on that account. They are significantly longer than this one, but that is for a good reason. I have one currently updated, and another on the way. These will take longer to update, as they are longer and require much more research. Anyway, I hope you guys will check those out, and show me some support over there, and, of course, feedback is always welcome! Thank you for your understanding, and have a happy Tuesday! 

P.S. Let's hope you don't die repeatedly 

P.P.S. I hope you get that reference


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